Chapter 2

Macys P.O.V

My alarm goes off the next morning and pulls me out of the pleasant dream I was having; in my dream, my grandfather and I were engaged in a game of cards. After hastily reaching for my phone off the nightstand, I silenced the alarm and fell back down in bed for a few moments to reflect on the past few years of my life.

My grandparents have been me and my brothers' primary caregivers for the past twenty-two years of my life. As soon as I was born, my mother began doing drugs because she was unable to cope with the death of my father. One day, she said she wanted to introduce us to my grandparents, so she brought me and my brother over to their house. She lied to them that she needed to go to the store to pick up a few things, and she never came back to get me after she left.

At least Mother didn't start using drugs until after I was born, which is a huge relief.

Little favors, I guess.

They didn't give it a second thought to take us in and raise us. Over the course of the first few years of my life, both of my grandparents made numerous attempts to get in touch with my mother. They were not seeking for her because they wanted to give us back to her. They were looking for her because they wanted to help her.

She is not their daughter. They are my grandfather and grandmother, on my fathers side. When my parents found out they were pregnant with me, they had just graduated from college. I am told that at the time, they were very much in love. My father passed away from a heart condition before my mother even realized she was pregnant with me.

You see, my brother was not their biological grandson. His father was another man my mother had met when she was still in high school. That didn't matter to Mae and Donald, though. They still took him in right along with me.

My father never got to meet me. She became addicted to drugs as a means of coping with the loss of him, and apparently, I was malnourished. I imagine that she did not take care of me in the way that she was supposed to.

My mother never made an effort to get in touch with us, regardless of the reason. Even a birthday card wishing me well was skipped over by her. For the first few years, I waited on the front porch every birthday for the mailman to bring us our mail, in the vain hope that I would receive something from her.

However, she never sent me anything.

Around the age of thirteen is when I decided to give up on that. Because she was the one who brought me to my grandparents, I told myself that she was aware of where I am and would take the necessary steps to contact me if she wished to do so.

My grandparents have provided us with everything we ever needed. They never missed a school baseball game, a school talent show, or any of the events that me and my brother and I were having at school.

They never missed a single one of those events. I never doubted for a second that my family would be there to support me in the stands, even if some of the games required them to travel several hours to be there.

Every night, before he put me to bed, my grandfather would read me stories, and we always followed the same routine. After he was done telling me the story, he would carry me into the kitchen and grab a drink of water for both of us. After I had finished my homework each night, my grandfather, brother, and I would sit down for a game of gold fish, which was one of our favorite card games to play together.

I believe that most of the time, he allowed me to win because, according to him, I have a difficult time accepting defeat.

My grandma made sure that my Halloween outfits were always among the most beautiful that could be found around our town. She would devote days ensuring that each and every aspect was flawless.

Spending time in the kitchen with my grandmother is one of my favorite things to do. She has taught me how to make so many delicious treats that I now have a whole notebook full of recipes.

I lost my brother when I was just sixteen years old. I'll admit that losing him messed me up. I'd have nightmares every night of my brother being killed. The. nightmares had gotten so bad that my grandparents were forced to put me on sleeping medicine.

I no longer dreamed.

When my grandfather was driving home late one night two years ago, he was involved in an automobile accident. The doctor assured us that he did not suffer and that he had passed away on impact. Although I did not want my grandfather to pass away, I am grateful that he did not suffer before passing away.

I was a complete disaster for several weeks, and as a result of losing the man who was the only father I knew.

Something inside of me was severely damaged when my grandfather passed away. I was going to college to become a registered nurse but ended up stopping mid semester. Although my grandmother is often nagging at me about that, the truth is that after my grandfather passed away, I did feel a little bit down in the dumps.

I was in such a state that I would not even leave my room for several weeks because I was so distraught. The only reason I came out was to eat and use the restroom.

The person who ultimately saved me was my grandmother. One morning, she barged her way into my room and all but dragged me out and plopped me down in the recliner that belonged to my grandfather. She then preceded to tell me that my grandfather would be disappointed to see me letting my life go to waste just because he had passed away.

Although it was really harsh, hearing it helped me gain some perspective on the situation.

My brain was scrambled, but she put it back together again, and the next day, I called the college. They told me that I had missed too many days and that I would need to begin the program all over again the following year.

However, before I could travel back, we discovered that my grandmother's lungs were beginning to fail. She needs a transplant. The difficulty with it is the cost of transplant surgery

We do not have that amount of money, especially considering the fact that my grandma and her grandpa could only afford to pay for affordable insurance. After they retired, they decided to take in a child and promptly used up all of their savings on the child.

Over the years, they each picked up part-time work, but nothing that would have been considered excessively demanding on them.

I have been working nearly nonstop ever since. I do not regret my decision. I have been putting aside as much money as I can while still ensuring that we have enough to survive. Because my grandmother is unable to work at this point in her life, I am responsible for everything.

I am not in the least bit complaining; all I am saying is that it is difficult to pay the bills and save money for a procedure that could save a life.

The previous year, I made the decision to begin working at a local animal hospital since I simply could not bring myself to enter the field of human medicine.

Because he understands the motivation behind my actions, the vet at the clinic is extremely kind to me and makes it possible for me to put in longer hours than the law permits.

I am essentially the only worker he has for the vet assistant position. I'm similar to a medical assistant, except I work with animals instead. I support the veterinarian in any way that he requires, in addition to assisting with the collection of information and vital signs from the animals who visit the clinic.

It is literally the worst thing in the world to have to work virtually every single day, yet it is necessary. My eyebrows and my nails are in terrible shape, and it's been months since I've colored my hair.

My appearance is a total disaster.

My grandmother asked me to buy something for myself with my money, but I just can't do it. As I've mentioned, I put every single dime that I have into that glass jar. My grandparents made many sacrifices for me, and now it is my responsibility to make sacrifices for my grandmother.

The shape of my hair, nails, and eyebrows is the least of my concerns at the moment.

The most important thing to me is ensuring that my grandmother lives.

If I end up losing her because I can not gather enough money, I do not know what I will do with my life. I am not even exaggerating when I say that I will probably suffer a mental breakdown.

When I was thirteen, my mom's parents made an attempt to remove me from the care of my grandparents. The judge believed that I was old enough to make my own decision, and it should come as no surprise that I went with Donald and Mae Campbell.

Since the day my mother dropped me off to live with them, they've taken care of everything for me, but my mother's parents put off taking responsibility for me until I was an adult. It would appear that my mother's parents knew about it right from the beginning, thanks to the private investigator that my grandfather hired.

Why would they wait until I was older?

Our best guess is that they did not want the responsibility of raising a young child. They did not even make an attempt to get in touch with me again. I suppose they believed that they had fulfilled their responsibilities and made an effort.

They could have continued to be a part of my life despite the fact that I had stated that I would not live with them. I had never said that I did not have an interest in getting to know them.

My relationship with my grandmother is the only thing in this world that holds any significance for me. Of course, I have a few friends, but other than my grandmother, I don't have any other close relatives.

I can not stand by and watch her die without making an effort to save her life. Which is why I pretty much put an end to my own life. I start work at seven in the morning and stay until seven at night, six days a week.

At first, Dr. Raymond, my boss, proposed that I share the days with another employee so that I would not have to put in so much long hours of work. I told him that I needed all of the hours that I could obtain.

Even though he was kind enough to offer, I was unable to accept the help. I would make sure I am at work every day no matter what.

Coffee, chocolates, and Monster energy drinks are the main sources of sustenance in my diet. It's okay, even though I know that my grandma would be horrified to learn that I consume such a large quantity of those drinks.

When I finally get her the surgery that she needs, all of this will have been worthwhile. I want to put a side as much money as I possibly can in case I get a phone call informing me that they have, at long last, found a match. She is at the top of the list, but believe it or not, it is extremely difficult to find lungs that match.

It has been months, and I'm beginning to give up hope, despite the fact that I would never dream of expressing such sentiments to my grandmother.

I let out a quiet sigh, pushed all of my thoughts out of my head, and carefully got out of bed. It's time for me to get ready for work. My grandmother is most likely preparing some food for me to eat for breakfast as well as putting together a bag for my lunch.

I tried to reassure her that she didn't need to worry about that and that she should get as much rest as she could, but she wouldn't listen to me. She claims that as soon as she sees me off to work, she goes back to bed and immediately falls asleep.

She better.

Her physician has recommended that she spend some time in the hospital, but she continues to reject his advice. She stated that if she were to pass away, she desired to do it in the comfort of her own home.

While I am at work, she is looked after by a nursing assistant who visits with her during the day. At least that portion of that bill is covered by the health insurance.

I honestly do not know what I would do if it was not.

I hastily shower and get dressed for work in my bathroom before heading out the door. Today, I am working in my go-to scrubs, which I purchased as a set from a thrift shop not too far from here when I first started my new job.

It is covered in adorable puppies that are making goofy expressions.

As I hurriedly ran my brush through my hair and pulled it back into a messy ponytail, I was immediately greeted by the aroma of waffles. My grandmother knows that waffles are my favorite thing to eat for breakfas. It's sticky and yummy and just a good way to start the day.

Before she makes them, she incorporates chocolate chips and fresh fruits into the batter mix.